Takin' Back
by The Jakkyl
Summary: Following a heist, Jason Murdok is shot and left for dead by his closest friends. After serving the last of his 2-year sentence, he decides its time for takin' back whats rightfully his. Graphic Violence. Profanity. Adult Situations.
1. Introduction

Jason Mudok: 25 – A  
man without a care in the world . He like's thing's fast.  
Fast money, fast car's, fast women and a quick gun. He is  
handsome, with spiked black hair. Blue-green eye's, and a  
tattoo of a naked woman on his fore-arm that he call's  
simply, Jennie.  
  
Elroy "Cash" Bishop: 28 –  
Always at the wrong place at the wrong time. He is a life-  
long, small-time criminal who usually hold's up fast-food  
resturant's to keep food in his mouth, and take care of his  
pregnant girlfriend who has a Nursing degree. He's black,  
with a high-school education which has never been fully  
used. A strong build with a short hair-cut, and a thin soul-  
patch which he sometime's braid's.  
  
Melissa Muller: 23 – Jason's  
long-time girlfriend. She was a former college student at  
the University of Communication's, until her grade's started  
to drop from her night job as a Stripper. She moved all the  
way to Miami, and eventually began a turbulent relationship  
with Jason Murdok. She is very attractive, and thin with  
straw-berry blonde hair, with the tattoo of a Dragon on her  
lower back that has 'Sisco' written on it.  
  
"Slim" Jackson: 21 – Slim  
couldn't be further from his true appearance. He is severely  
obese, though he call's it 'stocky.' Usually wearing loose,  
silk shirt's which feature some sort of design on them. With  
Nike 'Air Jordan's' that he's owned, and wore routinely for  
year's. He is black with light blue-gray eye's.  
  
Eve Hira: 19 – Eve is a  
Japanese gal who moved to L.A. with her dad at age four. She  
grew up, eventually prostituting herself to anyone with the  
right money. She is very light-weight, and thin with long  
black hair and brown eye's.  
  
Miguel "Lover-boy" Sisqo:  
20 – Miguel is a Hispanic man who is a Rapist/Fixer. He has  
a faded black hair, with a long goatee. Strong and nimble,  
"Lover-Boy" as he's called is a feared member of the under-  
world.  
  
Travis "B.S" Bale: 31 –  
Not many people have their ear so close to the ground that  
they literally shake at the mention of names. But as his  
nickname suggests, he is never trusted, and in the end can  
lie like nobody else. Though he proves useful in some  
situation's. He has thick brown hair, and a heavy eyebrow's  
with droopy eye's.  
  
Simon Clay: 26 – Simon  
owns a popular nightclub called, "The Big Easy." He  
fashion's himself as a playboy, and in fact, is one of the  
most eligible bachelor's in the gold-digger community. He  
has black hair, with the edge's slightly dyed red, and long,  
narrow sideburn's. A long slender face, with a spiky goatee  
which is blended with dark red streak's. He's into dark  
pornography and fixing crimes, which is more or less a game  
to him. Sometimes called "English Clay."  
  
"Handsome" Isaac Finnegan:  
18 – his mother Italian, and father African. He is a  
handsome man, and co-owner of a small Bar called "The East-  
Curb." He's a friend to both Elroy and Jason, supplying them  
weapon's, and money whenever they need it. A good friend. 


	2. The Low Down

Two Years Ago  
  
The clasp of a Zippo lighter flipped open. An Index  
finger, covered in a white glove flicked the steel flint  
twice to ignite the fluid, starting a short flame. The Zippo  
passed across three cigarette tip's that were placed  
together, then pulled back to be smoked.  
  
"How much is in there?"  
  
"Who knows. A lot."  
  
The lighter was brought up to a woman's face. The girl was  
Eve Hira who stared straight into it, gazing sharply into  
the deep flame. Her eyes flickered as a shotgun shell was  
being loaded in the confinds of their Van. A deep, English  
voice came fourth...  
  
"Make a wish sweet-heart."  
  
Eve smiled. Blowing out the flame as smoke filled the dark  
container, greeted by a few cough's, and chuckles. The door  
opened wide as Jason Murdok jumped out with a .45 Beretta  
clenched in his right-hand. He was dressed in a white jump-  
suit, with a clear, plastic mask covering his face. The mask  
had a big, cartoon-like nose, and a scar over the right eye.  
A cigarette sticking out of the thin, gaping mouth-hole.  
  
Simon came out next with an Assault Rifle held loosely in  
the palm of his hand. A leather strap over his shoulder to  
support the gun that dangled beside his arm-pit. "Lover-  
Boy", "Slim" Jackson and Eve were just behind them. "Slim"  
holding a powerful Shotgun in his left hand, and a Doughnut  
box in his right to accompany each other. They were all  
dressed in the same outfit's, making their way to the front  
entrance-door of the "First International Jewel Bank of  
Miami."  
  
"What time is it?" Jason asked.  
  
Simon checked his sterling silver Rolex watch: "4:12pm. Got  
somewhere to go, friend?"  
  
"Yeah, Missy has a birthday today. I gotta get her a  
present, yet."  
  
The team approached the revolving glass door's. Swinging  
them open, a security guard stood by the entrance. Leisurely  
flipping through a magazine. His eye's gradually came up to  
see the robber's, just as "Slim" fired a single buck-shot  
into his chest, that propelled him to the floor in a dead,  
bloody heap. They all raided the bank, Eve holding twin  
Desert Eagles in her hands to aim at the Teller's.  
Controlling them with threats.  
  
"Shut up bitch!" Eve screamed, pistol-whipping a female  
Teller in the mouth. "Load the fucking back!"  
  
"So what are you going to buy here?!" Simon asked while  
raising a hammer into the air. It collided with the glass  
display case where Diamond's were elegantly placed on a red,  
cotton cloth.  
  
"I don't know," Jason paused. "Maybe a teddy-bear. Women  
like bear's," He remarked. Raising his Beretta to fire two  
shot's into a near-by guard, killing him.  
  
"No, man. You have got it all wrong. They love what the bear  
represents. Power. Courage. Money, for some. And most of all  
– a very big dick."  
  
Jason laughed. Crossing the aisle, he looked down at a guard  
laying on the floor. Hit in the hip, and bleeding badly.  
Jason raised the Beretta, shooting him in the back of his  
head once. The barrel smoking from the discharge.  
  
Sisqo held an elderly Teller around the neck. His sharp,  
curved blade touching her jugular gently. Almost daring her  
to breath. He licked the inside of her ear-lobe with a grin.  
He was a sadistic prick, Jason thought as he fired a shot  
over-head.  
  
"Yo, just tie her up," Jason shouted.  
  
Sisqo backed up. Tripping the woman to the floor as her  
removed a roll of duct-tape from his back pocket. Stripping  
it off, and tying the woman's hand's together. After he was  
done, Miguel tossed the roll to Eve.  
  
"You have no idea what your missin', baby," Sisqo taunted  
the Teller. "I see ya again. Okay?"  
  
Simon crossed the counter with a black bag in his hand.  
Smiling at Jason, then to the rest.  
  
"We have them! Let's go," he barked. Checking his watch:  
"Not even a minute. Perfection."  
  
Eve jumped off the counter. Blowing a kiss to the people  
inside, who weeped around the massacre. "Slim" laid the  
Doughnut box on a table near the entrance, it had a small,  
cheap camcorder inside. The lense peeking out to view them  
all.  
  
"Don't run, or call anybody. I know where all ya'all are in  
this place. So wait still for ten-minutes or I blow this  
Bank up with you cracka's inside," he said in a breathy,  
coarse voice.  
  
Jason and Simon exited through the door as the other's edged  
out behind them. Keeping an eye on the hostages, finally the  
team rushed out to the quiet sigh's of the employees. The  
Manager, a portly man who laid on the floor looked at the  
box with sweat running down his red face.  
  
"Kelly. Call 911," the Manager ordered.  
  
"But --"  
  
"Go, dammit!"  
  
The Van sped down the lone street. Jackson driving, and  
Sisqo riding shotgun. He smoked a Marijuana cigarette while  
staring out the window with a cold grin. Tapping his toe to  
a heavy metal riff on the radio. He casually twirled a small  
knife between his finger's with expert dexterity.  
  
In the back sat Simon who still wore the cartoon-mask on his  
face, looking across at Jason who sat leaning against the  
side. Eve drank a freshly opened beer bottle, offering  
another to Jason, who accepted. He took a swig, enjoying the  
taste. Slushing the alcohol around in his mouth before  
swallowing it. Eve slowly nuzzled beside Simon, giving Jason  
a warm smile.  
interjected.  
  
"Okay?"  
  
"Now, if you had a friend. Who was close to you. How about,  
a brother...."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"And they were duel Prince's fighting to become King over a  
Queen. Would you say getting rid of you enemy, who's still  
kind of your friend – evil?"  
  
Jason thought about the question a little. He didn't pay  
much attention to the inference, but more concentrated on  
the damn present: "Well, yeah. Brother's are sacred. It's  
definitely sick."  
  
Simon sat back, pulling off his mask and looking almost  
through Jason: "Yep. That's what I thought you'd say."  
  
The Doughnut box popped open, – a S.W.A.T. team standing  
over-head. A man peeked inside to see a Smiley sticker  
placed on the top of a toy video camera. The bomb defusal  
expert ripped the device out, looking at it skeptically.  
There were string's laying on the top to give it an  
authentic appearance.  
  
"So what is it?" A cop asked.  
  
"It's a toy," the Expert said. Handing the camera to a near-  
by officer.  
  
"Hey, my kid has one of these. It comes with a fake video,  
and everything. He love's it. Want to be a reporter, he  
said."  
  
A fat police-man stood beside the counter. Holding a bomb-  
resistant shield over his face to block from an explosion.  
He raised the shield, and slammed into the floor after  
hearing about how they were dooped.  
  
"Shit!"  
  
The cork of a Champagne bottle was popped off into a river.  
All of the team where assembled around a dock, each holding  
a champagne glass. Even Travis Bale stood around them, his  
Jeep behind the Van. Which was their escape car.  
  
Simon poured Jason a glass first, then Eve, Jackson, Sisco  
and finally himself. They all looked inside the glass to the  
fizzy drink. It bubbled a little on the top, fresh from  
being poured. It smelt good, and probably tasted great.  
  
"To friends," Simon toasted, raising his glass. "...For they  
are all you need...in this world."  
  
Jason smiled. Tapping glasses with everyone around him.  
After that, Simon excused himself: "Wait! You are going to  
love this! Especially, you Jas."  
  
Simon scampered over to the back of the Van. Tearing through  
the back for something. He finally jumped out of the back,  
holding a gift in his hand in the shape of a box. Blue and  
gold wrapping paper around the outside, and a black bow on  
the top. He gave a grin to Jason while approaching him.  
  
"So you sure you want to leave the gang? Go solo," Travis  
asked.  
  
Jason knew something was up. The shit-eating grin on Simon's  
face. All of his friend's acting grim, as though they were  
attending a – funeral. Simon came close to Jason, holding  
the gift in front of him. He lofted an eyebrow to his  
friend.  
  
"Open it, Jason," Simon asked him.  
  
"Nah. I hate gift's," Jason refused. Reaching for his  
Beretta that he kept tucked into the back of his pants.  
  
"You'll love this one," Eve encouraged.  
  
Jason wrapped his finger around the gun's handle. Sliding  
his Index finger onto the trigger, which he rubbed the side  
of for a moment. He pulled it out, swinging it around half-  
way to Simon's face where it would wipe that smile off  
permanently. Then, a shot tore through the box. Hitting  
Jason in the stomach, ripping open his belly, and knocking  
him to the dock – his gun fired into the air, gun-powder  
staining the side of his face.  
  
His eye's searched for hope as his body twitched in spastic  
agony . It hurt him all over. He could feel the blood  
pouring all round him, making a lake of claret around his  
body. And standing over-top of him were all his friend's.  
Simon giving him a disgusted head-shake while holding a .32  
Revolver over him.  
  
"You thought you could beat me? I know about how you wanted  
to take Melissa to Pittsburgh, or California, wherever. Get  
this straight, she is my property. My little whore!"  
  
"Fuck you," Jason groaned.  
  
"Yes," Simon chuckled. Reaching for a cell phone in Travis's  
shirt pocket, he pulled up the antenna and began dialing,  
'911.'  
  
"I'm sorry, Jason," Slim said regretfully. "...Simon's Said,  
you had to go."  
  
The corner's of Jason's vision began to blur white. Like  
film exposed to sun-light, gradually fading out. He saw  
Sisqo spit in his face, the gold took in the front of his  
mouth shining.  
  
"Hello. I have information on the man who committed the  
robbery at The First International Jewel-Bank," Simon coldly  
told the operator. "...Yes. He's lying at my feet here at the  
Show-han Dock's. Just in front of a blue Van – oh, and don't  
try tracing this call either. Bye." Simon hung up.  
  
"Your going to die a pitiful robber," Simon mocked.  
"Ha........Ha......Ha., friend. Let's go!"  
  
They all gradually walked away from him. Eve dumping her  
drink on his chest, guiding it around to only hit his neck  
region. Then she skipped away to join her lover. Leaving him  
for dead.  
  
'They say ...the only one's who can save you are devil's  
themselves. Show you the light, and the true meaning of  
dark. That's always the way, isn't it...?' 


	3. BlingBling

A plane flew over the police building. The bottom  
glistening from the morning sun. A stream of wind behind it,  
followed by a droning cry.  
  
Jason walked out the front door of the police station, a  
grin on his face. Freedom bare. Wearing donated clothes, –  
purple sweat-pants, and a light-blue tee-shirt. He felt like  
a dumb-ass, but it was more comfortable than the blood  
ridden rag's he wore when the cop's first found him.  
Stopping at the bottom of the stone step's, he took in a  
triumphant breath of fresh air.  
  
"Fuck you, pig! Get outta my face," a suspect screamed as  
two cop's shoved him to the front door.  
  
He took a seat on the step, waiting for his ride. Rubbing  
his hand across the side of his face, he needed a good  
shave, to trim his 5 'O clock shadow. And some French Fries.  
A beer wouldn't hurt either. His train of thought was  
halted, however, by a loud honk. Looking up he saw a  
familiar gold Cadillac, with spinning hud-caps. And waiting  
inside the car was a face; 'Handsome' Isaac Finnegan.  
  
Jason got to his feet, swaggering over to the car in a pair  
of busted white Sneakers. He opened the door, watching Isaac  
clear some newspaper's, and cup's off the Passenger Seat.  
  
"Come on, man. I'm ready to get the fuck outta here. I've  
been dicking around here for the past three day's."  
  
"Chill, baby," Isaac smiled.  
  
After everything was cleaned off. Jason hopped inside,  
slamming the door shut to Isaac's chagrin. He hunched in the  
seat while rolling down the window. The car shifted gear's,  
hydraulics kicking to give the side a little bounce as it  
drove down the street. Isaac laughed out loud, grabbing  
Jason's hand, and giving him a buddy punch.  
  
"How's it feel to be a free man, holmes?"  
  
"Different," Jason retorted. "I can't believe you picked me  
up the fuckin', Pimp-Mobile."  
  
Isaac laughed: "You still haven't changed? Shit, boy, did my  
friend's take care of you on the 'inside?'"  
  
"Yeah, kinda. This guy from L.A. came in about a month ago,  
tried to shank me with a Screwdriver. They shot him on the  
court-yard, and transferred me back here."  
  
"Word?"  
  
"Hell yes. I think he was one of Simon's crew. Trying to rub  
me out."  
  
"Mm-hmm."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
Isaac gave him a worried look. Adjusting the Dice on his  
rear-view mirror. Flipping on his turn-signal, he drove down  
an alley-way. Cranking up the radio to a 70's Funk station.  
  
"Word is – Simon wants your ass. Bad, nigga. I mean sick  
bad!"  
  
"Oh, yeah? Well, the feeling's mutual!"  
  
"Now don't go doin' that stupid shit! Since you've been on  
the 'inside', thing's have changed. He started up a club  
downtown."  
  
"The Spunge. I know."  
  
"Naw. He shut that place down once it got shot up last  
summer. The boy's who did it got buried-alive in the  
cemetery. He has this strip joint, 'The Big Easy.' This  
bitch work's prostitution, drug dealing, and assassination's  
out of the same goddamn club! And, word on the street is  
that he has high member's of the police department in his  
pocket now, too. Damn, even the Cuban's to mess with his  
shit."  
  
Jason nodded. Looking out the window – a young woman jogged  
with her Poodle. Only a pink short-length tank-top, and  
green, tight-fitting pant's covering her bottom. She had a  
walk-man headset on, where she blared 80's bubble-gum pop  
music. This caused Jason to smile as he slid on a pair of  
sleek Oakley Sunglasses. Fixing the gun-metal frame, as the  
Emerald lenses reflected the woman's figure. It was good to  
be out.  
  
The Cadillac swerved onto Bay Heights. Pulling up in front  
of a Jewelry Shop called, 'Bling.' Both door's opened,  
allowing them to exit the car. Isaac advanced around the  
Cadillac, using a small remote to set the car-alarm. He  
wrapped his arm around Jason's shoulder, walking forward  
with him to the front-door.  
  
"This is my joint. We make the finest gold, silver, platinum  
– whatever, jewelry in town. My ass is bustin' with  
business! Shit, son, this joint and The East-Curb, is makin'  
me a straight-up pimp."  
  
The door opened, triggering a tiny bell above the door to  
ring gently. A black man sitting at the register looked up,  
eyebrows narrowed. He slushed a lolli-pop in his mouth.  
Getting up from a stool, watching them enter. Slowly he  
pulled up a double-barrel shotgun, staring Jason down. Isaac  
took note of that, halting his employee.  
  
"What the fuck is this?" Jason asked.  
  
"It's cool, Romeo! Jason, this is my boy Romeo. He's just  
actin' so tight 'cause we got robbed this week by some  
punk's," Isaac explained. Giving Romeo a leering eye. "But  
we took care of theirs dumb-asses. Follow me, G."  
  
Jason tailed Isaac past the Jewel cases where watches, and  
necklaces were stored. A flight of wooden stairs were just  
ahead. Apparently, this place used to be a house of some  
kind, he thought. Isaac scaled the winding step's, stomping  
up-stair's with Jason just in back of him. Trying to figure  
exactly where they were going.  
  
"Where are you taking me to?"  
  
"Just come with me."  
  
Isaac moved down a hall-way, passing three closed door's on  
his way to an open doorway. The hinges were broke on the  
reinforced-steel door, leaving it hanging on the wall. Jason  
and Isaac stepped inside the room, -- a baby crib was off to  
the side, next to a coffee table. And in the center was a  
Pool Table, all the ball's spread out on side. It was just  
straight of a mini-Bar.  
  
"Nice," Jason remarked.  
  
"Ain't it?"  
  
Isaac jigged over to the crib, pulling out a big, wooden box  
from under it. He carried it over to the Pool Table,  
sprawling it out on the side. Looking over at Jason,  
wondering if he knew what it was.  
  
"Remember this?" Isaac asked.  
  
"Shit. Just as I left it," Jason said. Taking the lid off.  
  
Inside – was a 'Nude America' magazine on the bottom, under  
a 'Skank Fortune' book. A silver-framed .40 caliber Beretta  
handgun, with two clip's. A Swiss Army knife. A mini box of  
condoms, and a 5-year old Speeding Ticket on top -- unpaid.  
He pulled out the Beretta, feeling the rubber grip and  
getting used to the weight of it. Observing that the condom  
box was already opened, unlike he'd left it. Smirking at  
Isaac.  
  
"I opened it once to oil the piece, 'bout a week ago. But I  
didn't use no rubber's," Isaac explained.  
  
Jason took black, leather shoulder holster from the Pool  
Table. Throwing it care-lessly over his shoulder. He stared  
at Isaac for a moment, a stiff face.  
  
"Well, maybe once. A while ago. And I didn't enjoy," Isaac  
told him. Soon breaking into a laugh.  
  
"I should throw you out the window for messing with my  
shit!" Jason teased.  
  
"Then ... you wouldn't see ya baby," Isaac said. Giving his  
trademarked, 'Handsome-Man Smile' that was worth a million  
buck's, or maybe only 200k.  
  
A tricked-out silver Mercedes-Benz SL 500 waited down-  
stair's. Parked in Isaac's vast garage, where he also kept  
two other car's. The second pride of Jason's life. It had  
four custom rim's that sparkled of gold-silver. Costing him  
a small fortune. The black interior had red mat's on the  
floor, each one with a grinning Devil on the front. Given  
that symbol after his friend's said it drove like a Bat out  
of Hell. He won it in a Poker game a few year's back to a  
world-renown player, taking care of it ever since.  
  
"Well, there she is," Isaac said.  
  
Jason – wearing a black silk Hawaiian shirt, which featured  
blue design's on the front. Resembling a dragon. Also  
dressed in a pair of black, leather pant's and similar  
colored boot's, stood there. Now minus his dorky-ass  
clothes. The key-chain in his hand dangled lightly. He  
walked across the outside to approach the Driver's Side  
door, opening it to climb inside. He stuck the key in the  
ignition to enjoy the pounding purr of the car starting up.  
  
Isaac walked over to a pillar, where a switch was attached.  
Pressing the green button in the middle of the device. A  
beep signaled, steadily forcing the garage door to open.  
  
"Anytime you need some-place to go," Isaac shouted over the  
engine. "...you know where I live."  
  
Jason nodded his head. Then hit the gas-pedal, hammering out  
of the garage into an alley, to hang the left corner. Coming  
to a stop between two building's, switching on his turn-  
signal. He drove out onto the street, heading out to, "The  
Big Easy."  
  
"That white boy is gonna get my black ass killed," Isaac  
remarked. Closing the garage door, and going to attend to  
his business. 


End file.
